Hope dies last
by HellenaMaezono
Summary: Bunnymund could witness the death of his people, carrying out his task as the Easter Bunny only because kids reminded him of his long-lost family. After what it seemed to be the end of everything, MiM gave him a daughter, showing him that Hope never dies. The Pooka is going to follow her through the years, from childhood to maturity, until he will realize he had done a big mistake.
1. Introduction

Summary:

_Bunnymund's life had never been easy; in his early days back in his Pookan village he knew many other people like him and he had many hopes for his future. Pitch, the Nightmare's King, managed to destroy them all by wiping out the rest of his kind, but still Bunnymund had the chance to become a Guardian, and even though he was the last Pooka in the universe, he managed to carry out his task because children were able to let him Hope and believe in a brighter future._  
_German kids, though, soon realized that the Easter spirit was a rabbit instead of a hare as their legend said and, feeling lied to, they started to question the existence of the Guardians, making them grow weaker as they slowly stopped believing._  
_But MiM knew what was going on, and he had a plan..._

* * *

Notes:

- This is my first fanfiction about Rise of the Guardians and the first fanfiction I ever wrote in English. Therefore, please be nice and tell me if something is wrong. I'm trying to improve.  
- I swear I tried to understand as much as I could about Bunnymund's background; not having the book, things have been quite difficult, but I wanted to try and write something as close as I could to the character.  
- Being a fanfiction I am putting so much effort in, I would like to know your opinion about it. Please rate and comment!  
- Rating will go up for later chapters.

Enjoy~!

* * *

Spring was right around the corner, and the air was warmer already. The wind was gently blowing on the newborn leaves hanging on their branches making them slightly wiggle, as if they were like tiny green hands waving to the new season.

Spring was the season of rebirth and new beginnings where, after the long, cold Winter, fauna and flora get back to life: animals wake up from hibernation, plants and trees grow new foliage and let new flowers bloom, letting them spread their scent into the open air.

All of that was extremely familiar to E. Aster Bunnymund, the Guardian of Hope, also known as the Easter Bunny. In all of these years he could witness the changes of the weather, the birth of new beings, the growth of new plants.  
He loved everything about Spring; especially his holiday, Easter, when he could manage to bring sweets and coloured eggs to every child in the world, gaining new believers every year and... well, losing some of them, too.  
It has never been a nice thing to lose some of his favourite believers, who he personally looked after as years passed by, watching them grow older until they stopped going to Easter Egg Hunts, forgetting about the Easter Bunny to replace him with any other interest.

To E. Aster Bunnymund losing believers was always one of the most painful things. He had been alone for so long now, after becoming the last of the Pookan kind because of Pitch Black.  
Pookas were a strong race, and during Pitch's attack they all tried to resist, to save their families, their beloved ones, their pride.  
In about a day, no one was left. No kits, no does, no wise old Pookas to ask for support or advices. No one was left.

Except for Bunnymund.

With a paw on his aching head he walked through the ruins of his once-prosperous place, now reduced to a mix of dust and blood.  
Silence was even worse than the horrified screams that echoed all around until a few hours ago: if Bunnymund had hoped that all of these painful cries would soon end, now he prayed any kind of deity to hear a muffled moan, any kind of cry or yell that would mean someone was still alive.

But that never happened.

He kept on walking, looking at the dead bodies all around him with increasing grief as soon as he could recognize the muzzles of his friends, his siblings, his relatives.  
He managed to keep his tears from falling as he walked further, head held high, not willing to surrender: Pookas were many, it wasn't possible that all of them could've been wiped out in only a few hours.  
Supposing that it had all happened in only a few hours... he couldn't remember. He could only recall the horrible run with his siblings, holding the paws of the younger ones, trying to protect and save them.

But then, darkness.

He just knew that he woke up face down in the dust, his ears still echoing with his people' cries, when around him there was only an atrocious silence.  
The only sound he could hear was produced by his own hind legs dragging on the dusty ground, arms limp down his sides, ears flat to the back of his skull and eyes red because of the tears that he didn't want to let down.

Then, he stopped, kneeling down with a painful sigh: there was a little, dead body laying down in the middle of a puddle of blood, right in front of him. The tiny, blue eyes were still open wide, mirror of the atrocious and terrifying way that poor kit had lost his precious life.  
Bunnymund kneeled in front of him, closing his sightless eyes with his left paw before breaking into an intense cry, holding the lifeless creature in his arms, realizing that he was the only one left.

That was long time ago, though.  
And even though these memories hurt as if he was still living them, now he had duties.  
He was a Guardian, and with that task he had the chance to protect little ones. Of course, none of them were Pookas, but they still were innocent kids at the beginning of their life, still able to hope in a bright future where hopefully they wouldn't experience what Bunnymund could go through back in his days.

Of course, still many kids were unhappy: some of them did not have a home, some of them did not have parents, some of them didn't have food or were seriously ill or were experiencing war.  
But that was why he was there for: to bring Hope.

Still so much time passed and all he could think of doing was his job. He didn't do it for himself, he did it for the children, since he didn't have much left to hope for.  
He lived in his Warren, with thousands of egglets as the only things that would keep him company.  
Yes, the other Guardians became quite similar to a family, but he was still the last Pooka in the whole universe. And that hurt a lot.

Everytime he could hang out with kids he felt the painful emptiness that the memories of his lost family dug in him, so he slowly decided to limit the encounters to once a year, mostly on Easter sunday. That way he wouldn't face his sorrow and he wouldn't endear any of the little ones in particular.  
But then, something happened.

Shortly after the Man in the Moon had chosen Jack Frost as a new Guardian, Bunnymund had the chance to meet a little girl, Sophie Bennett.  
She was adorable, and Bunnymund couldn't help but think at how much he was longing to hold a little Pooka as he could do with that little girl. After meeting her, Bunnymund's life lit up a bit, even though that lasted for a very short time compared to the eternal lifetime expecting him.

As every child, even Sophie grew up.  
She became a gorgeous teenager, and Bunnymund kept watching over her as years passed by. And as it already happened with many other kids, she slowly stopped seeing him. Moreover, German kids started doubting about the existence of the Guardians once realizing that the Easter spirit was a rabbit instead of a hare as their legend said, and that slowly made him and the other Guardians feel weaker as days passed by.

Bunnymund knew that was going to happen, but it hit him so hard he had lost any trace of hope left in him.  
How could he be a Guardian of Hope if hope itself didn't flow in his veins anymore?

It all happened when everything seemed to be over.  
He didn't know how it had been possible, but it was real. Three days before what seemed his worst Easter ever he found himself believing and hoping again, and everything thanks to one of the most precious gifts he would be ever blessed with.

A daughter.

The way she got into his life had been one of the weirdest things he could witness. He knew Pookas - and mammals in general - required a mate to reproduce.  
He had no mate, but that little one was there anyway.  
She got out from an unnaturally big egg in his Warren, and despite her brownish fur colour, her hazel eyes and her look more similar to a hare than a rabbit, she was exactly like him: a Pooka.

North told him that he could "feel in his belly" that it was all thanks to the Man in the Moon.  
He probably was right.  
And Bunnymund couldn't ask for anything better.


	2. Childhood

As Ester came into his life, so many things changed.  
As soon as he could hold that little Pooka for the first time he finally felt like his Warren was actually his home and not just a lair where he could hide and stay away from the rest of the humanity.  
He felt like belonging somewhere again, and taking care of that kit - leveret, actually - was not something he had been forced to do. He did it because he wanted to.

He taught her anything he knew, trying to educate her the same way his parents did long time ago.  
She grew into an active little Pooka who shared his same interests. She loved Spring, butterflies, flowers, warm weather. She also enjoyed painting eggs with him, and as soon as she could practice using the brush she was able to create surprisingly good patterns.  
Bunnymund was proud of her.

They were both sitting near the dye stream with a bunch of white egglets waiting to be painted.  
Most of them were usually able to paint themselves, but Bunnymund liked to paint some of them by hand to make them look unique. And now that Ester was around, that job was even easier.

It was nice to stay there.  
The sound of the flowing stream was relaxing and beautiful butterflies were flying around, occasionally laying on colourful flowers.  
The warm weather accomplished to make him feel comfortable while spreading green paint on the egg he was holding.

«_Here comes Peter Cottontail, hoppin' down the bunny trail~_»

Ester's cheerful voice was singing the well known Easter tune, slightly bobbing her head from side to side, following the rhythm she had in her mind.

Bunnymund turned his gaze to her, smiling. He ruffled her hair, giving a look at the egg his daughter was painting:

«Ya really like this song, do ya?» He asked, pulling his paw back from the leveret's head to sit more comfortably on the grass.  
Ester smiled, nodding vigorously:

«Yup! 'Cuz it talks 'bout yah!» She replied, before turning her gaze back to the egg.  
She stopped singing, slightly opening her mouth as she often used to do when she was concentrating on something. She half-closed her eyes, giving one last stroke with the paintbrush as soon as the painting process was completed.  
Her eyes lit up and she moved her paw in front of her father's eyes to show him the result of her work:

«_HIPPITY HOPPIN', EASTER'S ON ITS WAYYY~_» She sang, letting her father grab the egg before laying down on the grass and start giggling.

«That's a real beaut, squirt.» Said Bunnymund, turning the egg around in his paw to check his daughter's artwork.  
It was coloured in different shades of green, with tiny pink swirly patterns as decorations. There was no doubt it was Ester's egg, she used a lot of pink in her creations.

«How can ya be so sure that "Peter Cottontail" talks about me?» He changed topic, giving the egg back to the leveret.

«Easy.» She answered, sitting back up on the grass: «The song talks about the Easter Bunny. So that's ya.» Ester explained, pointing at her father.

«How d'ya know that the song doesn't talk about a little sheila?» He asked further, letting the leveret curl up on his lap.

«C'mon, daddy! This song already existed before ah was even here! And ah'm not an Easter Bunny! Ah'm Die Osterhase!»

Bunnymund smiled:

«True.» He said, nodding.

«But we still do the same thing. You do your job everywhere, I do mine where German kids are. Like aunt Toothiana and the European Division mouse. She said it.»

«That's right, fuzzball.» He agreed. She was a very smart little one, and even though that was only her third Easter she already knew what her task was and how to do a great job.  
Bunnymund layed his eyes on the purple egg he was holding, sighing while stroking one of his daughter's cheeks.

The memories of Ester's first Easter rushed through his mind, and he could lose himself in them. She was barely one year old and, around three months before, Pitch was about to take her away from him. It had been two terrifying months, but with the help of the other Guardians he managed to get her back. She was the most precious thing he could have after so long time spent alone; he wouldn't have known what to do if Pitch managed to hurt him once more as he did so long ago.

When Easter came he was so afraid to let her go that he gave instructions to the eggs that he should've been hiding all around the globe to follow and watch over his daughter.  
At first she was so excited she couldn't stop hopping around while walkingh through the tunnels that should've led them to Europe, but once she got topside she got nervous.  
Bunnymund taught her how to make sure that the colored eggs were properly hidden in the grass and bushes, showing her which places would've been the best ones to look over the situation.

Once hiding the eggs they both hid behind some bushes, while kids started their hunting session.  
Ester was very excited to see how many kids were out there, and while Bunnymund could see pretty much everything due to his height, the leveret couldn't see anything more than leaves.  
He taught her that the Easter Bunny - or, in her case, Die Osterhase - should never be seen except for particular reasons, which was why they were hiding and not hunting eggs with the kids.  
She perfectly understood; however, while jumping and trying to look through a hole in the bush, she tripped over her own paws, rolling out her hiding place and making so much noise that the kids couldn't not notice her.

She certainly was not a normal hare: even though she still was a little one she was way bigger. Moreover, she was wearing a belt and she still held the basket where she carried her eggs in her paw.  
Kids ran to her and, instead of running away, she froze.

Bunnymund didn't get out of his hiding place; once the kids noticed his daughter, he instantly could feel stronger and healthier, and that would mean only one thing: seeing Ester made kids who were about to leave that tradition to younger ones believe again.  
That was an extremely good thing, especially in that country.

The Easter Bunny slightly giggled when recalling the way kids approached his paralyzed daughter: they literally threw themselves on her, starting to stroke her hair, her cheeks, her paws. Younger ones even tried to pull her tail or touch her tummy.  
She was so shocked she couldn't react until a boy tried to pick her up by the ears. That was definitely a wrong move.  
Ester stood up, running back in the bushes while screaming: « DADDYYY!»

The kids were about to follow her, and Bunnymund had only the time to let her jump in his arms before tapping his paw on the ground to open a tunnel and disappear in it. Kids were able to see her and that was a great thing, but that has definitely been enough.

«Whatcha thinkin' dad?»

Ester's voice brought him back to the real world, and he giggled again.

«Whatcha laughin' at?» She asked, raising an eyebrow.

«Nothing, squirt.» He answered, picking up another white egg and giving it to his daughter: «We betta' hurry. Easter's not waitin'.»

«_HIPPITY HOPPIN', EASTER'S ON ITS WAY~!_» She sang again, grabbing the egg and getting back to painting.

* * *

«Dad! Daddy! Wake up!»

The little hare's excited voice was drilling Bunnymund's eardrums, as she was jumping hard on his abdomen.  
She knew she shouldn't have been doing that, but it was the only way to wake him up without letting him walk around like a zombie for hours.  
And that wasn't definitely the right time to act as a zombie.

«DADDYYY! WAKE UP!» She repeated, kneeling between his spread legs and starting to punch his belly.

Bunnymund finally opened his eyes as soon as he could feel pain in a place his daughter shouldn't have been punching on.

«CRIKEY, I'M AWAKE-!» He yelled, sitting up and taking the leveret away from his legs: «...whatcha want, fuzzball!?»

«What's that supposed ta mean, dad-!? It's time!» She replied, tugging on his chest fur as she kept stamping her feet on the ground.

«So what-!?» He asked, blinking and trying to understand at least what was going on around him.

«It's Easter, ya gumby!» She said, giggling.

«What did ya call me again!?» He spat out, frowning: «'S still not time, go back ta sleep-!»

«Hellooo? German countries, timezone? Dad, ah' gotta go!» She insisted: «C'mon! Ya promised!»

Bunnymund shaked his head with resignation:

«Alright.» He sighed, standing up.  
He took his daughter's paw, as he started walking towards the center of his Warren where the main tunnels were. He still was a little sleepy, but Ester looked excited and full of energy. Good for her.

Once arriving in front of the tunnel with the European continent sculpted on its archway he crouched in front of the little hare, messing up her hair:

«'Kay, squirt. Got yer basket?»

«YUP!» She said, showing him her basket full of colored eggs, as many other egglets started approaching them, ready to follow her.

«Got yer belt?»

Ester showed him the belt where three egg-bombs were tied. He had to make sure she was able to defend herself in case anyone tried to attack her.

«Good little sheila.» He said, rubbing his nose on his daughter's before giving a quick lick on her cheek: «Ready?»

Ester opened her eyes wide, tensing up:

«NOT YET!» She yelled, abruptly looking around and running towards the flower field.

Bunnymund couldn't help but slightly smile once realizing what his daughter was doing: she bent over a big, pink flower, sniffing it before pulling it out the grass and placing it in her hair, right next to her left ear. Then she turned around, running back to him.  
She picked up her basket, secured her belt and looked at the egglets right behind her with a smile before nodding; she licked her father goodbye, then she started to run through the tunnel that would lead her to Europe:

«READY!»


	3. Adolescence

As years passed by, E. Aster Bunnymund managed to get even stronger than he had ever been before.  
He could finally hang out with kids and watch over them again without feeling the sorrow that haunted his life before his daughter got into his life.

He was no longer alone; he was finally able to take care and interact with someone of his kind, feeling like he belong somewhere again even though there were only the two of them.

Ester was now able to go topside by herself, creating lots of beautyfully decorated eggs for the kids she hung out with. She gained more and more believers as Easters went by, and everytime she got back to the Warren she was eager to tell Bunnymund about her day.

The Easter Bunny was really happy to have a daughter who followed his footsteps.  
Everything seemed going on perfectly... until something happened.

It was a cold Winter morning and Ester joined him in his nest to feel warmer. He was now used to let her sleep with him, so he just kept sleeping once letting her adjust her muzzle against his chest.  
He woke up some time later, realizing that his daughter was no longer in his nest. He couldn't have dreamt of that, there was her smell on the hay near him.

He decided to stand up and go and look for her; first of all he checked her room. As expected, it was empty, and her smell was not as strong as if it would've been if she left shortly before.  
He wandered around the house trying to figure out where she could've gone; once realizing she was nowhere in the house, he decided to go and look for her around the Warren.

Once opening the door, Bunnymund shivered: the air in the birthplace of Spring was unnaturally cold, and that would've meant only one thing.

«Frost!» He yelled, following a frozen trail on the grass.  
What was the Winter spirit doing there? What did he want from him again?  
He could imagine anything except for what he could see once stepping over a low hill: Ester was right in front of him, laughing and bending over to pick up handfuls of snow before throwing them to her white haired opponent.  
He couldn't believe it. He had spent so much time trying to keep her away from that troublemaker, and now she was having a snowball fight with him. And despite how much he said he disliked the hare, the Winter spirit seemed to enjoy it.

«C'mere, Tess!» Said Bunnymund, catching his daughter's attention: «Ah' told ya not ta leave without tellin' me first!» He tried to avoid looking at Jack, but he couldn't help glaring at him once his daughter reached him.

«Sorry dad, Ah' couldn't help it. Snow seemed so fun!» She cheerfully answered: «How comes it's so cold? Mah paws hurt-!»

Bunnymund avoided to reply to her question, putting an arm around her shoulders to silently encourage her to get back home with him:

«Ya betta' get in a warma' place before you catch a...» He got interrupted by Ester's sneeze.  
He gently licked her nose, messing up her hair with his free paw:

«Told ya.» He said, with a slight giggle: «All we gotta do is getcha warmed up. Want anythin' ta drink?»

«Hot milk?» Ester's eyes lit up.

«Ain't ya a lil' too grown fer that?» Bunnymund raised an eyebrow. Even if she was now a teenager she still felt like acting like a little one.

«With honey in it?» She continued, smiling and showing her white buck teeth.

Bunnymund gave a faint smile; he didn't want the Winter spirit to see his soft side.  
«Deal. Let's go, now.»

Ester let his father wrap an arm around her shoulders before turning back to the Winter spirit and waving at him:

«Bye, Jack! Thanks fer lettin' me play with ya!»

* * *

The Easter Bunny really hoped it was a 'goodbye'; Jack Frost never wanted to accept the fact that now Bunnymund was a father and had more important things to think of than let him be the usual, annoying brat that kept pranking him whenever he had the chance.

He never talked to the little hare, and everytime he could lay his icy eyes on her he looked at her with bitterness, hence why the Pooka never really introduced her to him.

But then he found her playing in the snow with him, and he needed time to understand what was happening.

After that day, Ester slowly changed.

She often looked bored, and no longer enjoyed things that she used to like.  
Bunnymund couldn't even hold a conversation with her anymore without hearing her huffing every now and then.  
That was really frustrating.

Moreover, she started to leave the Warren without telling him, staying out longer and longer as days went by and returning at unreasonable times, leaving him seriously worried and annoyed by her behavior.  
He tried to tolerate that situation during the Winter months, but now Spring was approaching, which meant they both had duties to carry out, and she should've been helping him instead of causing him troubles.

Easter was two weeks away, and Bunnymund found himself overloaded with eggs to paint.  
With a sigh he sat nearby the dye stream, watching over the egglets that were diving into the magical liquid to paint themselves while having another bunch of them waiting to be hand painted right next to him.  
He picked up his paintbrush, getting down to work.

Several hours passed before he could hear someone else's presence in the Warren; his daughter was back, and judging by the sound of her footsteps, she was trying not to make any noise.  
He waited for her to get closer, before speaking.

«Ye've been outside all day long, sheila. Where've ya been?» He said in a deep voice, without lifting his eyes from the egg he was painting.

He could hear Ester freezing up before letting out a huff:

«Please, dad, not again-» She complained, rolling her eyes.

«Easter's due in two bloody weeks, ya gumby. Ah've been doin' everythin' by mahself, here.»

«Ah' know, dad, but-»

«Ya know how important Easter is for us. Ah'm not gonna do your job, ya must play your part as well as Ah' do!»

«C'mon, dad, Ah've been just-»

«Ye've been WHAT!? Playin' hooky instead of doin' yer job? That's right, yer not gonna get outta here until Easter, have Ah' made mahself clear, sheila?!» Bunnymund stood up, menacingly walking towards the teenager.

Ester frowned, gritting her teeth, but she didn't lower her head.  
Tears filled her eyes as she opened her mouth to retort:

«Ah, screw Easter!» She snapped, furiously: «Yer only able ta talk 'bout that bloody holiday! An' ya don't even care 'bout what Ah' want!»

Bunnymund shuddered, freezing for a second; it was the first time his daughter ever answered him back.  
He tried not to lose his self-control, even though he couldn't help showing his teeth with a growl:

«Ah'm yer father, ya larrikin, and-»

«YER NOT MAH FATHER!» She shouted, pointing at him: «Yer a pain in the butt, that's what y're!»

There were no more words needed.  
The sound of a slap echoed in the Warren, so loud that even the egglets about to dive in the dye stream froze for a moment.

Ester was shocked.

It was the first time that her father did something like that.  
She put a paw on her aching cheek taking a few steps back, eyes open wide; Bunnymund's paw was still up in the air, his emerald eyes filled with rage as his chest was heaving.

She didn't say a word; she turned her back to him, running towards her room.

Bunnymund looked at his raised paw before realizing what he just did.  
He slapped his daughter.  
It was the first time ever he could actually lose his temper like that with her.  
He sat on the grass, running his fingers through the fur on his head with a sigh:

«Good job, Aster.»

* * *

A. Ester Haremund never felt so lost in her life.

She was curled up in her nest, as sighs shook her shoulders; her father never did something like that and he never looked so mad, either.  
Okay, she had to admit that she let her tongue slip; she should've never said such bad things to him, but she just tried to protect her independence.

Lately she found out she liked to have fun rather than working; yes, she still liked Spring, flowers, butterflies, warm weather and colours, but she also liked to laugh and run around without anything that would hold her up like rules or boundaries.  
All of that was new to her and she wanted to enjoy any second of it.

Ester wiped away her tears as she could hear her dad's footsteps approaching; she just laid there, letting him enter her room.

«...hey, squirt.» He said, sounding quite unsure.

Ester wasn't looking at him, but she could swear he was scratching his left ear.

«...listen, Ah'...» Said Bunnymund, standing right in front of the archway: «Ah' shouldn't have slapped ya.» He admitted. Damn, why was all of thid so hard to manage?

«Whatcha want...?» Asked Ester, sniffing.

«Just wanna talk. Honest.» He answered, crouching next to his daughter's nest to stroke her head: «Ah' know that yer now growin'up and ya want yer freedom. Ah' understand. But Ah'm still da one watchin' over ya and Ah' gotta know where ya are and whatcha doin'.» He paused, then continued: «Ah' thought ya enjoyed arrangin' Easter with me. What's wrong, fuzzball?»

Ester sighed, raising her head to look at her father's eyes:

«Sorry, dad.» She said, biting her lower lip.

«It's alright.» He interrupted her, licking away a tear falling from her left eye: «Just try ta understand how worried Ah' can be when yer not around.»

Ester sat silently in front of the older Pooka, nodding.  
Yes, she knew the reason why her father was so overprotective towards her; he had been the only Pooka around for thousands of years, and now that he finally got her he'd give his own life to protect her.

«...fine.» She said then, clearing her throat: «Ah' didn't tell ya anythin' 'cuz Ah' know ya wouldn't accept this...» She continued, lifting her eyes towards her father's: «I'm hangin' out with Jack.»

Bunnymund's expression went blank; of all of the spirits and sprites that were around, Ester had chosen to hang out with the iceblock.

«Please, dad, let me speak...» Ester said once noticing her father's discomfort: «He's a nice guy. He's my best friend and we have so much fun together...»

«What kind of fun?» Bunnymund asked, glaring at the teenage hare.

«Whatcha mean? We run around and pull pranks on people... how else would ya have fun?»

The Easter Bunny let out a sigh of relief:

«Right... how else?» He scratched his forehead, before changing subject: «Okay, squirt, here's da problem: Easter's around da corner and Ah' need yer help, just like da other years.»

«Where's da fun in all of th-?»

«Lemme finish: if ya promise me yer gonna do yer job without drivin' me crazy, Ah'll let ya hang out with Frostbite whenever you want ta.»

«Jack.» She corrected.

«Whateva'.»

Ester took her time on meditating on that offer.

«Whenever Ah' want ta?» She asked, still thinking.

«Yup.»

«Every day of da year?»

«Hey. Ya have a job ta carry out.»

«Daaad-!»

Bunnymund held his hand out:

«Take it or leave it, sheila.» He said, with a reassuring smile on his muzzle.

Ester looked at her father's paw, not yet convinced.  
But, hey, apart from her job, she could see Jack whenever she wanted to!

«...deal?» She asked, still a little unsure.

Bunnymund nodded, grabbing her hand and giving it a firm shake.

«Deal.»


	4. Maturity

Spring turned to Summer.  
Summer turned to Autumn.  
Autumn turned to Winter.

And then Spring arrived again.

Season after season years went by, leaving only memories behind them.  
Things seemed to change too quickly for Bunnymund, who couldn't help but look at his daughter as if she still was an innocent baby leveret.

She was an adult, now: she had a slim figure, and she was almost as tall as him; her waistline became thinner as her hips grew wider.  
She was a beautiful doe, and Bunnymund didn't know if he should've been glad that there were no other Pookas trying to take her away or not. Even though she was an adult she was still a very young one and she deserved to live her life and, although it was so hard for Bunnymund to swallow, have a mate.

That thought kept haunting him once realizing that there were no other Pookas except for the two of them. His little one would've lived her whole life without knowing how beautiful and full of Hope life would be.  
Bunnymund sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he was trying to get some rest; now that Ester was an adult she wouldn't have joined him in his nest if she couldn't sleep, or she wouldn't have asked for hot milk with honey if she was cold.  
Just thinking about that made him feel so nostalgic he couldn't keep his eyes shut and he had to raise and sit on the hay to think about what to do to induce at least three hours of sleep.

Once sitting up, his eyes could recognize a dark silhouette peeking into his room.

«Tess! Why're ya here? What's wrong?» He asked, rubbing his left eye.

The hare finally entered the room, fidgeting and looking down:

«...Ah' can't sleep, dad. Ah'm nervous.» She said, ears flattened to the back of her head: «Can Ah'... stay here, tonight?»

Bunnymund couldn't believe his ears:

«Yes!» He answered without thinking, patting a paw on the hay next to him: «Yes, wheneva' ya want. C'mere, fuzzball.»

Ester approached him, nodding.  
She sat down on the nest, laying right beside her dad before getting closer to him; she laid her muzzle against his chest fur, closing her hazel eyes:

«Thanks, daddy.» She said, in a whisper: «Ah' luv ya.»

Bunnymund smiled, letting out a yawn.  
Even though she looked like an adult she was still his baby, innocent leveret, and nobody was going to change it.

* * *

Easter was a week away, and something seemed to be really wrong.  
Bunnymund could feel tired more than usual, and during the night he was unable to sleep properly. He just kept rolling over until the light of the day wouldn't enter his room, and if he could manage to fall asleep he would wake up in less than half an hour, heaving and shivering.

It just wasn't good, especially when he should've been arranging the upcoming holiday.

And as if that wasn't enough, something was wrong with his daughter as well.  
She was often very irritable, and while she used to leave the Warren to visit North or Toothiana, now she barely left her room, wandering around the house without even saying a word.

Bunnymund tried to talk to her to understand what was wrong, but she didn't know, either.  
Maybe she was just stressed and needed some time to recover, hence why the Easter Bunny had decided not to make many hand painted eggs that year, to let Ester rest before Easter sunday.

Four days passed, and yet Bunnymund couldn't see any improvement. Maybe he should've asked for help from North; Easter was three days away and things had to change before it was too late.  
Oh, and maybe he should've asked for help from Sandy, too. It was the second night in a row that he couldn't sleep at all.

Bunnymund rolled over, trying to get in a comfortable position. Nothing seemed to help, though, since he felt itchy and nervous: he blamed the lack of sleep for these bad feelings.  
With a growl, he punched the hay under his body, sitting up.  
He felt his head spinning, and he needed some time before feeling like standing up.

What was the time? Judging by the light it should've been early morning.  
Maybe he should've had some breakfast, but he was feeling so dizzy he was nauseous. Probably he shoud've tried to focus on something else, like working on the eggs.  
Even though he was tired, painting used to relax him; so maybe he would've ended up sleeping for a while near the stream.

He took all the necessary and approached the dye stream, sitting on the grass and starting to paint; he managed to decorate about five eggs when he started to feel extremely hot.  
Bunnymund rubbed his forehead, trying not to think about that unease; he grabbed another egg, stroking the paintbrush on its shell just to find out his limbs were shaking; feeling a sudden hot feeling dash through his spine he understood what was happening:

«No...» He muttered, realizing what these symptoms were: «No... it can't be...!» He said, trying to stay focused on his job.  
Stroke after stroke, another egg was painted, yet that feeling wouldn't leave his body. It was only getting worse.

«C'mon, Aster... focus. It's still not time, it'll pass.» He tried to convince himself, not letting that feeling take over him.  
But then he shuddered and everything slipped out of his paws, making him realize thar he was about to lose his mind.  
He could feel his guts knotting as his lower region prepared to wake up; he tensed up, trying to stop his private parts from showing up.

That definitely wasn't good. At all.  
He was having a rut three days before Easter, and what was worse was that his daughter was still around the Warren when she should've been anywhere else, to avoid becoming object of the istincts he was forced to repress for so long.

«Strewth... Ester!» He shouted, once realizing he had just a handful of seconds before losing control. He forced himself to stand up, walking towards his daughter's room with wobbly legs; he wanted to get her out of the Warren as soon as possible, before it was too late.

«Ester!» He called, leaning on the wall while trying to keep walking: «Ah'm sorry, ya can't stat here now, ya gotta go...!» He managed to say before reaching the archway leading to his daughter's room: «...Tess?»

No one replied. That was definitely the worst time to ignore him:

«Hey, sheila! Ah'm talkin' t'ya! Are ya deaf?!» He spat out, irritated, crossing his daughter room's archway: «Ya must go, got it? It's dan...»

Bunnymund froze once realizing that something was very wrong: Ester was laying on her nest, and even though he was in her room she held still as if nobody talked to her.  
At first the Easter Bunny thought the hare was sleeping, but then he could see she was shaking and heaving, slightly whimpering as her chest moved up and down.  
Was she sick?

«Hey...?» Damn, could that situation get any worse than that? «Fuzzball? Ya alright? What's wrong?» He asked, hardly kneeling beside her and nuzzling her to feel her temperature; she wasn't running a fever, but she wasn't okay at all.

«...d-daddy, help me... Ah'm scared...!» She said, throwing herself in her father's arms.

Bunnumund hugged her back, sighing. He had to resist a little longer, though Ester smelled different: her fur was releasing a stronger smell, and the air seemed warmer around her; her whole body was shaking and he was quite sure he could feel her having a hard time to hold still.

«Scared? Fer what?» He asked, letting her lay her muzzle near his neck: «'S fine, squirt. Ah'm here. Tell me what's so scary.»

Ester tightened her grip on the older Pooka's fur, sighing:

«Ah' feel hot, dad... as if Ah'm 'bout ta blow. And... well, down there. There's a weird... pulse?»

He would've thought of anything unless what his daughter just told him. He opened his eyes wide, holding his breath once realizing what that warm feeling and that smell were: she was in heat.  
That explained why he was having a rut so early.

He was shocked.  
His daughter was the reason of his arousal. And he was the reason of his daughter's. That was bad.

«Listen, Tess.» He said, trying to let go of her: «Ah'... Ah' know what's wrong, but ya must go away ta feel betta'. Please, trust me...»

Ester didn't hear a word. Her nose was right on Bunnymund's neck and she was smelling it, closing her eyes.

«Ya smell so good, dad...» She said, starting to groom him.  
That was definitely the worst thing that could happen.

Bunnymund held her wrists, pushing her away:

«G-get offa me, sheila!» He stuttered, noticing how fast his heart and breath were getting.  
He was a buck, and he would've never, ever refused to mate. He should've been the one courting the does, not the other way around. It just wasn't right. Moreover, she was his daughter.  
Of course, he adopted her, but she still was like a daughter to him.

«Look, Ah'm gonna call North.» He said. He couldn't resist anymore: «Yer gonna be just fine, Ah' promise.»

«...dad, take me outta here. Ah'm too hot.» She said, heaving harder as she rolled over, laying on her back.

«Okay but then lemme ask fer help...» He said, trying to make her stand.  
She weakly nodded and he managed to take her out of her room, letting her sit down under a large tree.

«Stay here... Ah'... need ta wash mah face.» He said. He was about to blow and really needed to cool off. He reached for the stream, splashing water on his muzzle to try and delay his breakdown.  
It looked like he was feeling better, but when he turned back to the hare he felt like he was about to collapse.

She was whimpering and her right paw slid down between her thighs.  
The rabbit rushed to her to take her paws away from there.

«No, fuzzball. No. It's no good.» He said.  
What kind of things was he talking about? He was trying to let her go away to do the same thing.  
There was no female Pookas around, except for her. The only thing he could've done unless sleeping his rut off was touching himself.  
Like the young hare was doing.

_He did a big mistake: she didn't know a single thing about how these things worked. Everytime she asked something related to sexuality he tried to change topic. He wanted to protect his little one, he wanted her to stay innocent._  
_That was extremely wrong; he should've known this moment would have come. And he couldn't avoid it._

* * *

- Did I say that this should've been the last chapter? Well, forget it. I thought I should've left a lil' cliffhanger before getting to the steamy part. And here it is.  
- Rating went up to "T" because of obvious reasons.  
- Next chapter will be the last one; this time I'm serious.  
- Rate and comment, last update will be next wednesday!

Thanks for reading~!

EDIT 11/27: Sorry guys, but I'm afraid I won't be able to update today: I'm having health issues, and I won't be able to stay online for a while. I'm so sorry to keep you waiting, but health comes first. I'll be updating as soon as possible, I promise.


	5. Sexual awakening

- At last, there you finally have the last chapter of this fanfiction; due to the contents of the last chapter, the title changed from "Hope dies last" to "Of all the things that happened, I hope this one never did".  
- Being a fanfiction I put so much effort in, I would like to know your opinion about it. Please rate and comment!  
- Even though I've ticked the Rape/Non-Con warning, you'll find out that they are both willing to mate even though at first it doesn't look like that.  
- About five weeks ago I've published the first chapter of this fanfiction, planning to update it every week because I had so much inspiration and because the story was a great relief valve for somebody who grew up without a father. I enjoyed writing about Ester's childhood and adolescence, and even about her maturity. When it came to Ester's sexual awakening, though, I've had quite a few complications, not only because of the writer's block, but also because of my actual health issues. I apologize for the late update and, as I've already managed to tell you in the first chapter's notes, rating went up from General to Explicit.

Thanks everyone for your support.  
Enjoy~!

* * *

_Bunnymund did a big mistake: she didn't know a single thing about how these things worked. Everytime she asked something related to sexuality he tried to change topic. He wanted to protect his little one, he wanted her to stay innocent._  
_That was extremely wrong; he should've known this moment would have come. And he couldn't avoid it._

«Dad...» Ester said, looking up to the rabbit's emerald eyes, with half-closed eyelids: «This feels... so weird.» She said.

He didn't need to hear anything else.  
The older Pooka had lost his control; instincts took over his mind as he nuzzled the hare's neck, licking it. She did the same, istinctively grooming the rabbit's jawline while running her fingers through his chest, unknowingly stimulating the sensitive spots under his fur.

He let her adjust on his lap before getting back to grooming: he licked her neck, her chest, her tummy, getting back up to her shoulders and licking both her arms, without forgetting a single spot.  
It was so long he couldn't feel so attracted to a Pooka of he opposite sex that he wanted to smell and taste every inch of her. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd actually done this with someone of his kind and that was extremely exciting; that was certainly better than hiding in his Warren for weeks, spending hours and hours handling himself until he could feel satisfied enough to stop.

He let her turn the other way, going on with grooming her back.  
But then, she moaned, getting down from his lap as she kneeled in front of him, lifting her tail up.

The rabbit's heart skipped a beat, staring at what the hare was istinctively showing him, astonished. He could see her private parts so many times when she was little, and he even used to groom them. But he could never think that he'd see it in that condition.

Her womanhood was now red and swollen, slick and dripping with fluids, while her rear entrance clenched every now and then; he gulped when he could feel his groin wake up and starting to poke out of his fur.  
He was so aroused he couldn't help but wonder how these fluids would taste like. His mind was blurry, and all he could think of was related to breeding: the rut was having total control over his mind and his instincts were telling him to claim and mark her as his own mate.

He was no more able to think when his muzzle reached for her slick sex, smelling her scent before getting back to grooming her; he put his right paw right under her tail, stroking its base while licking off the fluids dripping from her womanhood. He groomed the swollen vulva, trying to enter her with his rough tongue, wriggling it inside to catch more fluid.  
Behind the salty flavour he could taste willingness, arousal, fertility; any quality that a buck would look for in his doe.

All of that was extremely new to Ester, who was now so scared she could barely move. She didn't know what was happening: she could feel a weird warm sensation rush through her body, and her limbs were shaking so hard she could feel her muscles start to ache.  
The most weird thing was the feeling of a pulse between her thighs; was she hurt? Why was that feeling getting stronger even though she wasn't doing anything?  
She was just laying face down on the grass, heaving, with her bottom and her tail raised up in the air, showing her father what she would never have showed him if she was in her right mind; she turned her gaze to him, wiggling her hips to provoke him.

She asked for it without even knowing why, and all she could do once feeling the warm and wet appendage groom her was grasp the grass beneath her paws, digging her claws into the soft earth as the feeling became stronger.  
The hare whined and panted as the rough tongue tried to enter her and groom her insides; she jerked her hips as an overpowering feeling of pleasure made her let out a choked moan. But, once feeling the older Pooka start to suck on the tip of her womanhood, she couldn't hold herself anymore.

«D-DAAAD!» She shouted, digging out a handful of dirt from the ground as she shivered in pleasure, then shut her eyes as the warm feeling against her womanhood stopped. She slightly opened them again when she could feel the strong body of the rabbit adjust on her, resting his left paw on her back.

Bunnymund looked down between his own thighs: his manhood was almost completely unsheathed, yet he could already see drops of seed dribble down from the tip: he grabbed it, stroking himself once or twice to let the rest of it slide out from its hiding place, before lining himself to the hare's entrance.

Ester could feel the rabbit move behind her, but she was feeling too weak to turn and see what he was doing. She didn't need to wait too long, though; she could soon feel a warm, slick presence approach her womanhood, entering her with a rough thrust.

«EEEEEKKK-!» The hare shouted and tensed up as an intense pain rushed through her body once being breached for the very first time in her life. She squirmed, trying to escape from the firm hold of the rabbit who was now pounding hard into her body, getting faster as thrusts multiplied.

She cried out in pain arching her back as tears fell down her eyes:  
«Dad, it hurts-!» She yelled, turning to the rabbit behind her. It sure was painful; her womanhood stung and felt like burning, being torn in half by something she couldn't see. She could feel the foreign thing rub against her inner walls and make the pain get worse and worse as speed increased.

The older Pooka seemed not to hear a single word; he just kept going, trying to hold his doe still as he increased his speed even more.

«Dad!Dad, please...»

His eyes were lost in the abyss as he kept thrusting deeply in her, absent-mindedly.

Ester kept struggling under the strong Pooka; Bunnymund, totally lost in his istincts, bit hard on her shoulder to make her stay still.

«EEEEEEEEEEKKK-!» The hare shouted louder when she felt his buck teeth pierce through her skin: «Dad-! Lemme go- LEMME GO!»  
She was now totally immobilized: he was holding her hind legs to make sure she wouldn't move, and she was being held by his teeth clenching on the scruff of her neck, forcing her in a horribly uncomfortable position.  
«Daddy... please!Please, stop it! Stop!»  
The rabbit slowed down, adjusting himself again with a groan as he released the scruff on her neck, letting her sigh in relief.  
He slowly thrusted as deep as he could, before increasing the speed once again.

«Dad... please... Ah'...» Slowly, the pain turned into something else; she could now feel slight waves of pleasure similar to the ones she could feel when he was grooming her. She closed her eyes, relaxing her body as the pleasure grew, lifting her tail to give him an easier access: «...hnn.»

In a few moments she stopped begging him to let her go, enjoying that new feeling instead, as if it was the only thing she needed in that moment. Which was relatively true.

While she just started getting used to that new, intoxicating feeling, the older Pooka was almost done.  
His chest was heaving fast, letting out faint groans as the pressure in his abdomen kept building up; he only needed a few more, powerful thrusts before releasing waves of thick seed inside the hare with a high-pitched moan.  
His body jerked once or twice before collapsing onto the hare; it had been so long since the last time he could do it that he almost forgot what a real orgasm was all about.  
He sighed, adjusting himself once again. Instincts were still having control over his mind as his member was hard and throbbing again, ready for a second round.

The hare moaned as soon as the rabbit's grip loosened, taking advantage of it to sneak away and take a look at her lower half: thin streaks of blood dribbled down from her mixed to a thick, milky fluid. She was about to groom herself when she noticed the rabbit's member right in front of her.  
Was it the thing that hurt her so much at first?

It was... weird.  
It was long, red and hard, coming out from the thick fur between his legs: it had a pointy tip, yet the base was very thick: no wonder it hurt so much.

She approached it with her muzzle, sniffing it: a strong, sour smell made her frown, yet she felt the urge to try it.  
She licked the dripping tip, before slowly reaching the base and lick it clean. She could taste fertility, desire, arousal; she didn't know what these things were supposed to be, yet she found herself craving for a new contact.  
Licking its tip one last time she kneeled back in front of him, this time pushing herself back against his groin, shuddering as soon as she could feel it rubbing against her womanhood.

Being a rabbit, Bunnymund had a very short refractory period; in fact, he only needed a few seconds before having another raging erection, ready to breach his doe for a second time. When she kneeled in front of him once again and he didn't even wait to be inside of her: he just started jerking his hips in wild thrusts, so lost in his rut he didn't even realize he was prodding the wrong entrance.

The hare hissed, but she didn't pull back; once hearing the rabbit's huffs and groans, she frowned, trying to turn back and look at him.  
Okay, that wasn't really by instinct, but she really wanted to see how his face looked like in that situation; he always looked so grumpy and serious - except for when he allowed himself to smile or laugh with her - and now he was totally lost in his senses.  
He never acted like that: he wasn't even talking, as if he was no more able to be reasonable.

The worst thing is that she actually liked it.

She liked being claimed, owned, marked; she didn't even know how dangerous that could've been, but she was so lost in these lustful thoughts that she didn't even care.  
She took advantage of the loose hold of the rabbit to jerk her hips and shift position, laying on her back and trying to keep her thighs spread to allow him an easier access.  
It wasn't a very comfortable position, but still she could feel a weird, relaxing sensation rushing through her spine that forced her to let her head down on the grass with a slight moan.

Bunnymund didn't really understand what the hare was trying to do. Was she trying to get away from him? Why did she move?  
He gritted his teeth with a menacing growl before realizing that she wasn't really going anywhere; he huffed, getting closer to her and and starting to rock his hips once again, finally inside her.  
He tensed up, trying to get used to the new position; her thighs were in the way and it was quite weird being able to look in her eyes while thrusting into her body.

It was unusual, yet very exciting: he could see the lust in her half-closed eyes and pleasure in her open mouth. She was heaving, whining and squirming under his body, moaning his name and clawing his back, tugging at the fur on his shoulders to keep him from leaving her.

She was not just letting him claim her. She was asking for it.  
He looked down at her neck, getting faster and reaching for a speed that only a rabbit could ever think of before opening his mouth and sinking once again his buck teeth into her flesh.  
He bit her hard, inhaling the coppery scent of her warm blood before grooming her wounds.

He wasn't trying to hurt her; he was just following his instincts, and those bites had a meaning: they were marks that meant she was now his rightful Mate and that nobody had the right to claim her anymore. She was only his.

He slowed down when the hare tried to adjust herself; she propped up on her elbows, reaching for his neck and grooming it.  
Mating was not just trying to have an offspring. It was about instincts, sensations; an exchange where both of the parties merged into only one being.  
It was magical, and it was meant to last forever.

But that was wrong.  
And none of them could realize it yet.

Bunnymund felt his abdomen heating up once again as he was getting closer to his peak, feeling the arms of the hare wrap around his shoulders, moving in time with his thrusts.  
She was totally lost in that new kind of pleasure that she wanted to enjoy any single moment of it, letting him own her and explore her body as he never did before.

She arched her back as she could see his eyes become foggy, seeing his nostrils flare as he started chattering his teeth, panting. He whined, laying down on her and holding her tight as he kept twitching his hips, ready to feel the second wave of pure pleasure rush through his limbs.

Thick, warm seed filled her again, and this time she knew it was coming. She held onto his shoulders, shaking as she was letting him flood her insides for the second time that day.

She didn't even let him pull out.  
They just laid still, clinging to one another in the afterglow.

The hare closed her eyes, panting, with a slight smile on her muzzle; that was literally the best feeling she could've ever experimented in her life.  
She opened her eyes again only when feeling the older Pooka's tongue getting back on working over the wounds on her neck and shoulders; she giggled before grooming him back.

He didn't need long before growing hard again, still inside of her.  
Once realizing it, Ester stopped grooming him, gazing into his emeralds with her half-closed eyes before opening her mouth to speak:

«...again.»

* * *

Two days.  
They both needed two days before their heat could cool off enough to let them sleep; they kept mating over and over again without even realizing how wrong that situation had gotten.  
They both struggled for release, calling for the other's name, panting, moaning and marking each other.  
They were so lost in their instincts that didn't even stop to eat something; all they could think of was breeding, claiming, giving, owning, until they both finally fell asleep in the other's arms.

Bunnymund slept for quite a while before being able to wake up.  
He wasn't feeling that good, actually: his head hurt very bad, and it seemed like he wasn't able to remember a single thing.

Was he having a hangover? What did North let him drink anyway?

He frowned, sighing and trying to raise his hand to scratch his aching head only to realize that he wasn't alone in... was it his daughter's nest?  
How did he end up there? He wasn't a sleepwalker, was he?  
Whatever, he needed to wash his face and eat something, his stomach was feeling quite empty.

«…OUCH-!» He hissed, once trying to stand up; his neck and shoulders hurt as well, as if he had open wounds on them.  
He laid down again, putting a paw on the aching parts to try and massage them, only to realize he was bleeding; he looked at his paw in astonishment, trying not to lose his mind.

He had been bitten.  
He had been marked.

Who did it?! He couldn't have been marked from anyone except from his rightful mate, but it was clear that no other Pookas were around except for his adopted daughter.  
He gulped once noticing that these wounds were not the only wrong thing in that nest. He noticed that the air around them had a strong smell of... sex?

He finally realized that the last memory he could remember of was himself struggling to get his daughter out of the Warren because of the rut hitting him sooner than expected.

What happened then?  
Why was Ester still there?  
Why could he smell sex in the air?

He shivered, trying to speculate on what happened while he was unconscious; maybe he asked for help but he lost his mind and actually raped who was trying to help him?  
Who was it?  
North? Sandy?  
That was why he never wanted them to approach him when he was in his rut: he usually ended up losing control of himself.

He sniffed the air, trying to recognize the other scent, partially covered by the strong smell of his seed; once realizing it was a female scent, he wanted to pull every single hair out of his skin.

«No... not Toothiana! No!» He frantically exclaimed, willing to slap himself.

He knew the poor Tooth Fairy had always been very prudish when it came to topics related to sexuality, and he had the feeling that, even though she was probably hudreds of years old, she was actually a virgin.  
But how did he get these wounds, anyway?  
He gritted his teeth, trying to think; for how long did he sleep? Maybe Toothiana was still in the Warren?

He stood up, frowning because of the pain on his neck and shoulders, calling out the Fairy's name.

«Tooth! Tooth, ya here?» He yelled without even getting out from his daughter's room.  
Obviously, Ester woke up, complaining.

«…dad-? Why are you screaming, what's wrong?» She asked, trying to sit up and rub his eyes; but once moving, she tensed up, whining: «Oww-!»

«Ah'm sorry Tess, get back ta sleep, Ah'll...» Bunnymund froze once turning back to his daughter.  
Her neck and shoulders' fur was messy and sticky, and it looked like she was wounded as well.  
He looked at her, furrowing as he could recognize some blood streaks between her fur.  
...it couldn't be.

«Dad...? What's with yer face...?» She asked again, confused, before standing up to approach the rabbit.

Bunnymund shook his head in disbelief, horrified. He could smell his own scent on her fur, and now that he could see the wounds on his daughter's body he could recognize them: rabbit bites.

No, it couldn't be happening.  
He couldn't believe these marks were his, even though they were clearly enough. He was the only rabbit in the Warren, and they would also explain the existence of the wounds on his shoulders and neck.  
Even though that theory was the most possible one he didn't want to believe it.  
He couldn't have mated with her, he would never have.

But these marks were clear: they were Pookan marks. She mated.

«...n-no...» He muttered, slowly backing off.  
He had the same bites on his body, and the only one who could've made them was her.  
She bit him.  
She marked him as her own mate.

That was wrong. So wrong.  
But he couldn't deny it anymore when blurry memories ran through his mind, reminding him scents, sensations... voices.  
...it was her voice.

«…dad? Dad, ya alright?» The hare touched his cheek, and he slapped her paw before staring at her hazel eyes, ashamed and terrified of what he did.

«Don't... don't touch me! Stay away from me!» He snapped, as another flashback ran through his mind.  
He mated with her.  
He took her innocence away.

Shaking his head he turned away from her, leaving the room.  
He didn't know what to do, it was a nightmare. At least he hoped it was.  
He stopped walking as soon as he impulsively wanted to ask for help. He thumped his paw on the ground, opening a tunnel to the Pole and hopping into it; even though he was surrounded by shame, he needed to talk with someone.  
And North was the only one he could think of.

He got out from the rabbit hole right in the middle of North's office, gasping for breath, still with a horrified expression on his muzzle.

«Bunny!» North stood up from his chair, noticing how upset his fellow Guardian was: «Bunny, friend, what happen?»

Bunnymund lurched around the room, apparently delirious, trying to hold onto a table with shaking limbs before breaking into a long cry.  
North approached him, holding his shoulders:

«Need help? What wrong?» The russian asked, noticing how dirty and messy his fur was. And he was wounded, too.

Bunnymund kept staring blankly in front of him, panting and shaking, without answering.  
He looked completely shocked.

«Bunny!»

The Pooka raised his reddened eyes towards North's, before gulping:

«...p-please, North... please...» He stuttered, begging him with his eyes.

«What, friend?»

«…kill me.»


End file.
